


Crash And Flash

by 1JettaPug



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Suicide Squad (Comics), The Flash (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Airplanes, Attempt at Humor, Crash Landing, Eventual Smut, Humor, Injury, M/M, Panicking Barry, Powerlessness, Secret Identity, Slash, Stranded, Survival, Tension, boomerangs, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-02 18:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11514951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug
Summary: Barry dreamed of lightning. Different colored streaks lit up the sky, and they all danced around him. They kept getting closer and closer. It was probably one of those anxiety dreams he occasionally got when he wasn't fully asleep. He knew he was still safely secure on the plane, and he could hear voices outside his dream. The voices were getting louder. He wished they would just quiet down so that he could appreciate the lightning.The voices just got louder. Barry finally stirred and opened up his eyes.





	1. Swim, Barry! Swim!

**Author's Note:**

> Title? What is title? I barely have a clue. ^-^'

"Do ya want the window, mate?" A man asked him. "I got it, but I'd rather have the aisle."

Barry said yes, he would like the window seat, and he sat down after getting his bags set up above his seat. He tossed his jacket under him, and when he looked back up there was an outstretched hand right in front of his face. Barry blinked.

"Name's George," he said, holding out his hand. Barry shook it to be polite.

"I'm Barry," he replied.

"So what yer reason fer goin' ta Bermuda?"

"Just taking some time off from work," Barry said, leaning back in his seat. "I desperately need a vacation. I just wished I didn't need to fly..."

"'Fraid of heights, mate?" He asked with some cockiness there in his tone, wriggling his eyebrows at him with a grin.

"No," Barry shook his head. "It would have been easier just to cross water... by boat, of course. My friends told me that I needed the whole experience of flying and travel to really relax, though."

"Huh," George hummed. "Seems we both got the same reasons for goin' then. I swear, it's like this bitch from work wanted ta blow my head off! Took off 'fore she could get near me!" he laughed.

"Your boss?" Barry guessed.

"Ya could call her that I guess," George trailed off, scratching his chin. "But damn, I just can't wait ta get the bloody hell away from here."

And just like that, the tarmac started to move. It started off slow, then went faster and faster until it was gone and they were flying. Barry watched as the Atlanta airport disappeared and everything seemed to flatten out below them. He watched on until they reached cruising height. 

He relaxed in his seat but twitched at the crinkle of plastic. George was struggling to open a bag of peanuts. Barry sighed and closed his eyes, choosing to ignore the sound. It had been a long day already, and he was ready for a nap.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Barry dreamed of lightning. Different colored streaks lit up the sky, and they all danced around him. They kept getting closer and closer. It was probably one of those anxiety dreams he occasionally got when he wasn't fully asleep. He knew he was still safely secure on the plane, and he could hear voices outside his dream. The voices were getting louder. He wished they would just quiet down so that he could appreciate the lightning.

The voices just got louder. Barry finally stirred and opened up his eyes.

The window beside him was pitch black. He looked around. The whole cabin was dark, except for the emergency exits. 

Barry checked his phone. _"Huh,"_ he thought to himself. _"I thought we should have landed in Bermuda over an hour ago."_

The loud voices that he had heard in his dream was not happening in the dark cabin. The shouting and swearing was _coming from the cockpit._ Barry looked to his side and saw George lean down and and unlace his boots. He then reached under his seat and pulled some things out of his bag and place them in the bottom of his boots. Barry couldn't tell what they were in the terrible lighting.

Barry felt a strange tingling sensation in the bottom of his stomach, like the split second before he was struck by lightning. It was starting to make him sick.

He started reaching for his jacket below the seat, hoping to grab it since he put his Flash ring in the side pocket. Hopefully, it hadn't slipped too far under his seat for him to be able to reach...

He was barely able to put together what happened next. A gun went off from inside the cockpit, then the plane started weave everywhere! Barry shot up, mentally cursing that he hadn't been able to reach for his ring when one of the cabin crew was shoved out of the cockpit and into the aisle. She looked so scared, and there was a masked man behind her. He probably had a gun to her back.

Barry felt his pulse quicken.

"Stop-" he tried to shout, but he was cut off when the _plane suddenly nose-dived_. He was thrown back in his seat and hissed when his ears popped.

As quick as they dove, the plane suddenly jerked back up into a nice and level position. Then they seemed to hit something hard, and everyone bounced in their seats.

"C'mon, we're ditchin' this fuckin' kiddie ride!" George hissed into his ear, quietly. "Can ya swim?" Barry blinked. How the hell was this normal dude level headed right now?

Barry nodded, "I- I can swim." And George grabbed a hold of his hands.

He shot up out of his seat and tugged Barry along towards the exit. Barry blinked and before he knew it, they were in the water. He barely had a second to register that George had kicked the door to the cabin open, and he had even less time to register them falling into the open ocean.

He heard George yell, "Swim, Barry! Swim!"

They were still holding hands, and there was a chance of a snowball in hell that Barry would let him go after he saved his life. And he knew he saved his life when, not even a short distance away from them, the plane exploded into a thousand pieces.

The shockwave was enough to fling them both into the air for a moment. Barry shot up out of the water, choking and gasping. George kept yelling at him to swim, and he was suddenly swimming and focused again.

"Listen! There's the shore roight there! We can make it! C'mon, Barry! Keep swimmin'!"

Even when salt water was stinging his eyes, Barry could make out the solid dark mass of an island in front of them. Hell, from this distance he could even see the wave breaking up on the shoreline. He kept swimming. When they got past the breaking waves on the shore, Barry collapsed in the sand, feeling as if all his energy had been zapped right out of his body.

George was the one who managed to get to his feet and drag them until they reached dry sand. He rolled Barry over so that he was on his back and laid down next to him.

"W- What just happened...?" Barry groaned, feeling his head reeling over the past hour's events.

"Buncha bastards took over our plane and blew it ta bits, mate... Try ta keep up."

"Mhmm..."

He felt too drained to really do anything else just stare at the stars above them. So they laid there, wet, battered, and waiting for daylight.


	2. I'm With Crocodile Dundee

Barry took a in a breath. And then another. When he opened his eyes, he was laying on his back on the ground. He felt thirsty and damp, shaky and clammy.

Slowly, he sat up and saw the Australian guy- George- walking towards him. "H- Hey..." he said, awkwardly. Crashing on an island doesn't help make him any less gawky around strangers.

"G'day," said George, giving him a small smile.

Barry took a quick look around, then. The beach was a wide curve of glittery white sand. When he looked behind him, all he could see was several miles of thick, tropical green. A few rocks were scattered here and there, but they were totally alone. He sighed and stuck his head in his hands.

"I just wanted a stupid beach holiday,"

George snorted, "And I just wanted ta get the hell away from some bastards tryin' ta kill me. We all can't get what we want, Barry."

Barry blinked. "Wait. _W- What?_ "

"Ah, nothin'. A buncha fuckin' wankers recognized me and thought they could kill me if I didn't have my team ta back me up." he finally noticed the confused look on Barry's face. He coughed into his fist and turned his head to the side. "Ex-military, mate. I mean, if that helps clear any of that up."

"Dude! What kind of ex-military gets hunted down like this?!"

"The kind I'd be shot for tellin' ya 'bout." he told him. Barry just pursed his lips and left it at that. If George didn't want to tell him, then he didn't have to. He wasn't going to force something out of him when the two of them needed to get along in order to survive.

He pointed at the rocks sticking up out of the ocean. "Hey, is that where we swam from last night?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "We did good, didn't we, mate? The only two on board with enough brain ta get the hell outta there."

Barry felt his heart drop a little. "No one else made it out...?" Dammit, he should have done something! He could have sped past everyone and taken out the gunmen! He would have given up his secret to everyone there, but they probably would have lived! Of course, he didn't even have time to think of doing that when George grabbed him and made a mad dash towards the exit.

"Oi," Barry lifted his head and saw him sitting on the sand next to him, his legs crossed. "She'll be roight, mate." He gave his shoulder a pat. "...I admit that I kinda shot through the whole situation without thinkin' 'bout much, but let's focus on the now. We lived!"

"We lived," Barry repeated. "Now we just have to survive."

"Fuck yeah, we're gonna survive and-" George raised his brow and cocked his head. "And _damn._ Now that's the blackest bruise I'd ever seen! How the fuck didn't I see that before?"

And just like that, Barry started to feel all sorts of different discomforts start to crawl through his confused, dazed mind. "Argghhh, my head..." he groaned, leaning back on the sand again.

George whistled. "Quite the shiner ya got there."

"I could say the same about you, too." Barry shot back. "Bruises all down the left side of your face and arm. How did you manage to get those?"

"Waves must've bashed me into some rocks on the swim here." he shrugged. "But hey, I got some good news! I still got my boots!"

"George... Our clothes are sticky and stiff with salt," Barry sat up and shot him a look. "My jeans have been ripped into goddamn booty shorts, and your Hawaiian getup looks like it got in the middle of a cat-fight. My knee is swollen and bruised, with a big ol' raw scrape. Hell, we both got countless bruises and cuts-"

"Yer point?"

"My point is," Barry snapped, flailing his arms in the air. "How the hell are your BOOTS good news!? Are they going to save the day!? Do they have a phone in them!? Can they-"

George rolled his eyes and dumped the contents of the boots out. "These're gonna help us survive, Barry." He held a shiny, curved boomerang and smiled. "Just put yer faith in my blades, mate."

Barry drew in a slow breath, then exhaled. "Oh. Oh my god... I'm stuck on an island with fricking _Crocodile Dundee_!!"

George added another bruise to his arm by delivering a quick punch. "Don't be fuckin' stereotypin' me, mate," he snapped at him.

"Says the Australian whipping out the boomerangs and delivering a speech about survival." Barry crossed his arms over his chest. "I got news for you, I am not going to play _Sue Charlton_ , George." he stared him down (or rather up at him since George was taller, even when sitting down) and waited for his next oh-so-witty-reply.

The Aussie stared off towards the waves for a few minutes, choosing to ignore the fact that Barry was all but glaring daggers into his head. Eventually he blurted out, "We should build a shelter. Maybe find some drinking water."

Barry blinked, not expecting that to come out of him.

"Ah, yeah, sure. Let's do that." he said, lamely.

George shook his head, his curls gently swaying as he did so. "Nah, not with that leg of yers."

Barry bit his tongue. Yes it was hurt now, but it would good as new tomorrow morning. Not like he could tell a stranger that, though. He sighed.

"Okay. So just drag me over to the trees, and I'll kind of start building a lean-to."

"Ah, like yer thinkin' there, berry-boy."

"Don't call me that,"

"Okay, care-bear."

Barry covered his face with his hands. _"My leg can't heal fast enough, can it?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, it's fair to mention that at least in this fic, Captain Boomerang and the Flash have never gone up against each other. So Boomer doesn't know much about the Flash, Flash has never heard of Boomer, yada yada yada.
> 
> But how long will that last ? ? ?


End file.
